How Do You Know It's Time To Retire?

I was having lunch with my buddy, Mel, and the topic turned to retirement. It's been on her and her hubby's mind a lot lately.

They're close to the traditional retirement age of 65, but not close enough for Medicare.  That's important because private health insurance is a bear of a money pit.

I went through a lot of trouble trying to figure out what to fix or buy BEFORE I retired, but health insurance kicked us in the teeth. Instead of helping the underinsured, "the Affordable Care Act" raised prices for everyone. I was never so happy to get on Medicare.

Aside from that, if your house and car are paid off, have newish kitchen appliances, a good roof over your head, and no impending medical procedures, you're relatively safe to retire.

But how do you know it's time to retire? 

Believe me, you'll know. 

It becomes a slog to go to work every day. Even if you work from home, the dread you feel turning on your computer, knowing your boss will dog on your every keystroke takes away any joy you once felt about working.

I used to love going to work. I loved my job. I loved the atmosphere and the excitement of completing my tasks, but towards the end, it felt like an endless cycle. That same job felt like a hamster cage.

You get tired of the politics, the infighting, duplicitous coworkers or bosses, the complaints, and for me, the very long commute.

My commute was the straw that broke the camel's back. 

We had just bought our dream home--our last home. On an ordinary day I could get to work in 45 minutes, but during rush hour in Dallas, TX, commutes could take upwards of an hour and a half.

One day, it took me three hours to get home. That was it. I'd had enough. 

I took more pleasure scrubbing floors at home than having to face the hell hole at work. That's when you know. 

It's different for everyone, but I was kind of lost for the first six months after I retired. I think it's even harder for men because they define themselves by their work.

Fortunately, I had a house to remodel. Greg was still living on the Texas coast, so I was by my lonesome. I stayed incredibly busy from sun up until late at night.

I wasn't gardening back then. All my efforts went to the house. Every room in the house needed painting, the floors needed scrubbing, and I made it my mission to go scorpion hunting every night. 

Scorpions are few and far between now, but back then I didn't know about the weep holes around the house or the lack of door sweeps where they were getting in.

I was busy and for the first time in many years, I was happy. I wasn't earning a living, but I was moving forward, if that makes any sense. No more hamster cage.

When you do retire, find yourself a purpose. Nothing makes you age faster than sitting on your butt doing nothing. When most of the house was in a state I could live with, I turned to gardening.

It's up to you to find your joy. Take a passion and run with it. If you like to read, form or join a book club. If movies are your passion, take up collecting and selling film paraphernalia, or even movie props. I read about someone who buys and sells nothing but Star Wars movie props. It turned into a massive income source for him.

Greg likes to build things from scratch. One of our neighbors went back to school and became a lawyer, another took up astronomy. Another set of neighbors travel extensively.

All that matters is that what you do with your new freedom reflects what you love to do. No one's holding you back anymore. This is your time.

Retirement is precious. Use it to live out your dreams. 

 

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